The sun in Pallet Town always seemed to shine a little brighter than anywhere else. It was the kind of clear, blue-sky day that made you want to pack a bag and walk until the road ran out.
After spending over a week huddled over ancient scrolls and digital data tablets with Professor Oak, my brain was starting to feel like a fried circuit board. I decided that today was the day I'd finally play the tourist. I hadn't actually explored the town since my frantic sprint to the bus station days ago.
I stepped out of the laboratory's sliding glass doors, breathing in the scent of fresh grass and salt air. But the moment I hit the gravel path, my skin prickled. My new Aura senses were acting like a radar, and right now, they were pinging a "secret observer" about ten yards to my left.
I didn't even turn my head. I just leaned against the fence and smirked. Following the sensation of that familiar, hyperactive energy, I saw a shock of black-and-blue hair quickly duck behind the corner of a white brick wall.
"Ash, stop playing ninja," I chuckled. "I can see your hair sticking out from a mile away."
The "ninja" in question sheepishly shuffled out from behind the wall. It was indeed Ash, looking a bit flustered but mostly excited.
"Oh! You caught me!" Ash rubbed the back of his head, his face splitting into that classic grin.
"What's up, kid? Did you lose another Poliwag, or are you just here to spy on the 'Sinnoh guy'?" I teased.
"W-well... I think you're really amazing, Brother Julian!" Ash blurted out, stepping closer. His eyes were wide and filled with an earnest, burning curiosity. "You know so much about Pokémon. I saw how you taught the other kids at camp. Could you... could you teach me? About being a Trainer? And... I really want to play with Floette and Sylveon again!"
I looked at him, surprised by the sudden request. "Teach you, huh? Well, Floette and Sylveon would love to play, and I don't mind sharing a few tips. But tell me something first. Why do you want to learn? Is this just for fun, or are you planning on something big?"
Ash didn't hesitate. He clenched his fist, his posture straightening as if he were already standing on a stadium field. "I'm going to be a Trainer! No—the best Trainer! My goal is to become a Pokémon Master!"
The words hit me like a physical wave. I'd heard that line a thousand times through a television screen, but hearing it in person, from a seven-year-old who hadn't even had his first battle yet, felt different. It felt real.
"A Pokémon Master, huh?" I whispered.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my digital recorder, surreptitiously hitting 'Record.' But as I looked at him, my mind started to drift. My Aura seemed to vibrate, and for a split second, I wasn't looking at a little kid in a yellow vest.
I saw a young man in a blue jacket and a red cap. I saw a white wristband with red and blue stripes on his right arm. I saw a Z-Ring on his left, glowing with the light of a thousand Z-Crystals. I saw a Mega-Glove, the keystones sparkling. And most clearly of all, I saw him standing in the center of a roaring stadium in Galar, hoisting a massive golden trophy topped with a Poké Ball.
I saw the Pikachu on his shoulder, the Lucario and Dragonite by his side, the Gengar, the Sirfetch'd, and the Dracovish. I saw twenty-five years of journeys, losses, and triumphs flashing through my heart like a lightning strike.
My chest tightened. I reached out and bumped my fist firmly against Ash's small, clenched hand.
"I believe you, Ash. I believe you'll become an incredible Trainer. Maybe even the world's number one."
My eyes felt a little hot. I blinked back the moisture, my voice turning thick with emotion. "I'm going to wait for it. I'm going to wait for that day to arrive—the day I can personally witness you standing at the very top. I want to see you become a Master with my own eyes!"
Ash, being the thick-skinned and perpetually optimistic kid he was, completely missed my teary-eyed nostalgia. He just beamed and pumped his fist. "Mhm! I'll do it! And once I'm a Trainer, Brother Julian, you have to have a real battle with me! No holding back!"
"It's a promise," I laughed, wiping the corner of my eye. "I look forward to the day I get to battle a Master."
I released my two partners. "Floette, Sylveon! Go have some fun with Ash for the morning. I'll see you three back at the lab this afternoon for our first lesson."
As Ash ran off toward the hills, Sylveon's ribbons fluttering behind her as she chased him, I stood there for a long time.
I'll be waiting, Ash, I thought. Maybe this time, the world will be a little different. Maybe this time, I'll be one of the rivals you have to overcome. I hope the outcome is the same... but I hope the journey is even better.
That afternoon, the "classroom" was set up in a quiet corner of Oak's library. I had charts, diagrams of the type-effectiveness table, and even a small whiteboard.
"Alright, Ash, since you're here, let's get down to business," I said, tapping the board.
"I'm ready!" Ash sat on a stool, leaning forward.
"Now, Professor Oak handled the basics during the camp, and you've lived around Pokémon your whole life. So, I'm skipping the 'how to throw a ball' part. Let's talk about high-level strategy. Specifically, the eighteen types."
I started drawing a diagram. "Each type has strengths and weaknesses. For example, Dragon-types are incredibly powerful. They deal super-effective damage to other Dragons, but they're virtually useless against Steel-types. And, as I discovered, they have a massive blind spot when it comes to the Fairy-type. In fact, Dragon-moves have zero effect on a Pokémon like Sylveon."
I went on, getting more into the weeds. "But it gets complicated when you have dual-types. Take a Fire/Dragon-type. The Fire typing negates the Dragon's weakness to Ice and Fairy, while the Dragon typing helps cover the Fire type's weakness to Water. When you combine that with special Abilities like Levitate or Flash Fire..."
Zzzzzzz.... snore...
I stopped mid-sentence. I looked over the top of my glasses. Ash was slumped over the table, his head resting on his arms, a small bubble of spit forming at the corner of his mouth.
I sighed, rubbing my temples. Of course. What was I thinking? This is Ash Ketchum. Expecting him to sit through a lecture on dual-type defensive synergy is like expecting a Primeape to do yoga.
"Ash... time to wake up," I said softly.
He didn't budge.
I looked at his cheeks—smooth, round, and practically begging to be messed with. I couldn't resist. I reached out with both hands and gave them a good, firm pinch, pulling them outward like pizza dough. Wow, his face really is surprisingly stretchy, I thought, enjoying the sensation.
"Wha—hugh—mrrph!" Ash's eyes snapped open. He flailed his arms as I quickly withdrew my hands, trying to look as innocent and professional as possible.
"Ah, Ash! You're finally awake," I said, crossing my arms. "Do you remember the part where we were having a very important lesson?"
Ash rubbed his sore cheeks, looking groggy and embarrassed. "Ah! Sorry, Brother Julian! I didn't mean to! It's just... all the 'types' and 'effectiveness' stuff started sounding like a swarm of Combee in my head."
I let out a resigned laugh. "It's my fault. I forgot who I was teaching. Some people learn by reading, and some people learn by doing. And you, my friend, are definitely a 'doing' kind of guy."
I wiped the whiteboard clean. "Forget the books. Grab your hat. We're going to the back mountain for some practical instruction. If you want to understand how a Pokémon moves and fights, you have to see it in action, not on a chart."
Ash's eyes lit up instantly, all traces of sleepiness vanishing. "Practical instruction? You mean like... watching you battle?!"
"Something like that," I said, heading for the door. "Come on. Let's see if we can find a wild Mankey to show you what 'Type Advantage' actually feels like when it hits you in the face."
"Awesome! Let's go!"
I watched him sprint ahead of me, and I couldn't help but smile. Theoretical knowledge was fine for researchers, but for the boy who would one day change the world, the forest was the only classroom that mattered.